When I defir'd him to come home to dinner,
He afk'd me for a thousand marks in gold:
'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth het
Your meat doth burn, quoth I; my gold, quoth he:
Will you come home, quoth I? my gold, quoth he;
Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?
The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; my gold, quoth he.
My miftrefs, Sir, quoth I; hang up thy miftrefs;
I know not thy miftrefs; out on thy miftrefs!
Luc. Quoth who?

E. Dro. Quoth my master:

I know, quoth he, no houfe, no wife, no miftrefs;
So that my errand, due unto my tongue,

I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders:
For, in conclufion, he did beat me there.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home, E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home? For God's fake, fend fome other meffenger.

Adr. Back, flave, or I will break thy pate across. E. Dro. And he will blefs that crofs with other beating: Between you I fhall have a holy head.

Adr. Hence, prating-peafant, fetch thy mafter home, E. Dro. Am I fo round with you as you with me, That like a foot-ball you do fpurn me thus? You fpurn me hence, and he will fpurn me hither:,If I laft in this fervice, you muft cafe me in leather. [Exit, Luc. Fy, how impatience lowreth in your face! Adr. His company muft do his minions grace, Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look: Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took From my poor cheek then, he hath wafted it, Are my difcourfes dull? barren my wit? If voluble and fharp difcourfe be marr'd, Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard, Do their gay vestments his affections bait? That's not my fault: he's mafter of my ftate, What ruins are in me, that can be found By him not ruin'd? then, is he the ground Of my defeatures, My decayed fair.. A funny look of his would foon repair.

But,

But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale,
And feeds from home; poor I am but his ftale.
Luc. Self-harming jealoufy ?--fy, beat it hence. [
Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs difpence:
I know, his eye doth homage other-where;
Or else what lets it, but he would be here ?
Sifter, you know, he promis'd me a chain;
Would that alone, alone he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed.
I fee, the jewel, beft enameled, (5)
Will lofe his beauty; and the gold bides ftill,
That others touch: yet often touching will
Wear gold and fo no man, that hath a name,
But falfhood, and corruption, doth it fhame.,
Since that my beauty cannot pleafe his eye,
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Luc. How many fond fools ferve mad jealousy!
[Exeunt.

Ant.

SCENE changes to the Street.

Enter Antipholis of Syracufe.

HE gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful flave

TH

Is wander'd forth in care to feek me out.
By computation, and mine hoft's report,
(5) I fee the jewel beft enameled

Will lofe bis beauty; yet the gold bides ftill
That others touch, and often touching will t
Where gold and no man that bath a name,

By falfhood and corruption doth it shame.] In this miferably mangled condition is this paffage exhibited in the first folio. Alle editions fince have left out the last couplet of it; I prefume, as too hard for them. Mr. Pope, who pretends to have collated the first folio, fhould have fpar'd us the lines, at least, in their corruption.- -I communicated my doubts upon this paffage to my friend Mr. Warburton; and to his fagacity I owe, in good part, the correction of it. The fenfe of the whole is now very pertinent; which, without the two lines from the firft folio, was very imperfect; not to fay, ridiculous. The comparifon is fully clofed. "Gold, indeed, bides handling "well; but, for all that, often touching will wear even gold. So, "no man of a great character, even as pure as gold, but may in "time lofe it by falfhood and corruption.

1 could not fpeak with Dromio, fince at firft

I fent him from the mart. See, here he comes.

ག

Enter Dromio of Syracufe.

How now, Sir? is your merry humour alter'd?
As you love ftroaks, fo jeft with me again.
You know no Centaur you receiv'd no gold?
Your mistress fent to have me home to dinner?
My houfe was at the Phoenix? waft thou mad,
That thus fo madly thou didst answer me?
S. Dro. What anfwer, Sir? when fpake I such a word.
Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour fince.
S. Dro. I did not fee
you fince you fent me hence
Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
Ant. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt;
And told't me of a miftrefs and a dinner;
For which, I hope, thou felt'ft I was difpleas'd.
S. Dro. I'm glad to see you in this merry vein :
What means this jeft, I pray you, mafter, tell me?

Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou, I jeft? hold, take thou that, and that. Beats Dromio.

S.Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jeft is earneft; Upon what bargain do you give it me?

Ant. Becaufe that I familiarly fometimes
Do use you for my fool, and chat with you,
Your fawcinefs will jeft upon my love,

And make a common of my ferious hours.
When the fun fhines, let foolish gnats make fport;
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams:
if you will jeft with me, know my afpe&t,
And fashion your demeanor to my looks;
Or I will beat this method in your fconce.

S. Dro. Sconce, call you it? fo you would leave hattering, I had rather have it a head; an you use these blows long, I must get a fconce for my head, and iniconce it too, or elfe I fhall feek my wit in my fhoulders but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ?

Ant. Doft thou not know?

S. Dro. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten.

Ant.

Ant. Shall I tell you why?

S. Dro.. Ay, Sir, and wherefore; for they fay, every why hath a wherefore.

Ant. Why, firft, for flouting me; and then wherefore, for urging it the fecond time to me.

S.Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten out of feason, When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime nor Well, Sir, I thank you. [reafon

Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, for this fomething that you gave me for nothing.

Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for fomething. But fay, Sir, is it dinner-time

S. Dro. No, Sir, I think, the meat wants that I have. Ant. In good time, Sir; what's that?

S. Dro. Bafting..

Ant. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry.

S. Dro. If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it.
Ant. Your reafon ?

S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchase me another dry-bafting.

Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jeft in good time; there's a time for all things.

S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were fo cholerick.

Ant. By what rule, Sir?

S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of father Time himself.

Ant. Let's hear it.

S. Dro. There's no time for a man to recover his hair, that grows bald by nature.

Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery?

S. Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover the loft hair of another man.

(6) Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of hair, being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement ?

S. Dro

(6) Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of bair, being, as it is, fo plentiful an excrement?

S. Dro. Because it is a bleffing that be beflows on beafts, and what he bath scanted them in hair, be bath given them in wit.] Surely, this

14

S. Dro. Because it is a bleffing that he bestows on beafts; and what he hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.

Ant. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.

S. Dro. Not a man of thofe, but he hath the wit to lofe his hair.

Ant. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plaindealers without wit.

S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft; yet he lofeth it in a kind of jollity.

Ant. For what reafon ?

S. Dro. For two, and found ones too.
Ant. Nay, not found, I pray you.
S. Dro. Sure ones then.

Ant. Nay, not fure in a thing falfing.
S. Dro. Certain ones then.

Ant. Name them.

S. Dro. The one to fave the money that he fpends in tyring; the other, that at dinner they fhould not drop in his porridge.

Ant. You would all this time have prov'd, there is no time for all things.

S. Dro. Marry, and did, Sir; namely no time to recover hair loft by nature.

Ant. But your reafon was not substantial, why there is no time to recover.

S. Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald, and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers. Ant. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclufion: but foft! who wafts us yonder?

Enter Adriana, and Luciana.

Adri. Ay, ay, Antipholis, look ftrange and frown, Some other miftrefs hath thy fweet aspects:

is mock reafoning, and a contradiction in fenfe. Can hair be fuppos'd a bleffing, which Time beftows on beafts peculiarly; and yet that he hath jeanted them of it too? I corrected this paffage, as I have now reform'd the text, in my SHAKESPEARE reftor'd; and Mr. Pope has been pleas'd to adopt my correction in his laft edition. Men and Them, I obferve, are very frequently mistaken vice versa for each other, in the old impreflions of our Author.